


Could of Been, Should of Been? (#11 Possibility/Probability)

by ladygray99



Series: A Silk Pillow [160]
Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Abuse, Community: numb3rs100, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-12
Updated: 2011-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygray99/pseuds/ladygray99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How things could have gone for Ian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could of Been, Should of Been? (#11 Possibility/Probability)

It was Granger who put the crudely scribbled marks on the arms of their victims together with the tattoo he’d spied on Ian.

Ian shut the door, and drew the blinds. He sat silently in front of Don’s team for long minutes before he could find the words to explain what the retched smudge of ink meant, and how it had got there.

He hadn’t looked at them as he spoke, fearing pity or disgust. Each memory felt like rancid oil dripping from his lips but it was their only lead. The killer couldn’t be Him of course. He was six months dead, unmourned, a sharpened toothbrush in his gut.

Don got a judge to release foster records. Ian was first on the list. Every boy after that was cut somehow in his image; hair or eye or cheek, just like their current dead.

Each was tracked down one by one. With most it was a matter of finding graves. ODs, suicides, homicides, HIV, along with criminal records, theft, prostitution, drugs. With each file Ian felt some bit of time and space crumble in his mind. Sharp glimpses of what could have been, maybe what should have been.

Their killer of course was one who escaped, made good, college, business but in the end couldn’t live with His voice still giving orders in his head.

It was a classic standoff but Ian put down his gun, broke ranks. He stepped close and tried to reason. Ian knew they wanted to put this man down like a dog. This man who could so easily be him. The man raged at him, recognized him, Ian the favored perfect toy no other could live up to. Ian begged for sanity. The man raised his gun. There was a shot. Ian’s world went black.


End file.
